


Grief

by oclark1226



Category: Spider-Man (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Just real sad, One Shot, Really depressing, Short, Suicidal Thoughts, no happies here, sorry folks, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oclark1226/pseuds/oclark1226
Summary: Peter doesn't handle grief well. No one really does.Mostly vent piece for my sake.





	Grief

**Author's Note:**

> I lost someone close to me about a year ago. I still remember hearing the news. It's been hard, going through so much without her. She won't ever get to get married or go to college like I will. It's not fair. And it hurts. And that's why this exists, so don't read it if you're not ready to feel a deep sadness. If you've been there, you understand what I mean.

It had been months since Aunt May had passed away.

The grief didn’t leave. Not remotely.

It sucked his energy like a leech, leaving him desperate to feel some sliver of hope.

Everything felt so. Empty. 

Everyone in New York was missing someone. Whether it was from violence or illness was the only real distinction.

Winter hit hard. Less people were on the streets, or at least it seemed that way.

Crime was still high as always, but he didn’t always feel like he was making a difference.

He didn’t feel much of anything at all, really.

The cold called to him one night. The darkness tried to take him. 

He nearly let it.

He’d let someone get away. A rare occurrence, but not someone particularly dangerous. Every other culprit was in custody. It was only one. But there was one.

One too many. One who could go and hurt someone. One with the power to destroy lives if he so chose. 

So he hunted him down himself. Tracked police chatter, roamed the streets as a civilian, kept an ear out in every place he could. 

Eventually, he found him. 

He was a kid. Couldn’t be older than Peter himself. But he was armed. And that made him dangerous.

He tried to get the gun away from the kid. One web should’ve done it. But that’s not what happened.

No, what happened was the kid pulled the gun on himself and blew his brains out in the alley.

That was it. One loud sound, then silence. Absence. 

He threw up. Several times. He collapsed into the snow on the ground and punched bricks until his knuckles turned red. He cried. 

He made an anonymous tip and destroyed any evidence that he had been involved. And he left.

He made it a few blocks before he broke down.

He stopped on a rooftop and ripped off his mask, letting the cold air dry his tear-stained cheeks. 

He sat on the edge of the rooftop and waited out the tears.

When there were no more, he felt even more alone. 

Looking to the ground below, he didn’t think. He just pushed off and let himself fall.

He knew he couldn’t really do it. He didn’t have the guts. The guilt would eat him alive. So he pulled out of his freefall like nothing had even happened, mask back on his face. 

MJ noticed. She saw a video had gone viral of Spider-Man supposedly doing some sort of daredevil stunt. Only she knew what he had actually done. 

She invited him over without much explanation. He didn’t need one these days. He just did what he was told, going through the motions without falling apart. 

She didn’t show him the video, didn’t even explain why she wanted him there.

She just put on a movie and made hot chocolate with Aunt May’s special recipe and held him for a while. 

He let the tears fall freely. He had no shame around her anymore. 

He’d been trying to keep himself from completely breaking down, even when he was alone. Finally, there were enough cracks in the dam that it gave way. 

And she was there to get him through it. 

The grief never really goes away. 

It sits in the back of your head, only coming out when called, though not by you. 

The ache gets less painful over time, but it remains. 

You heal around it, but it will never be the same. 

It’s scar tissue now. It no longer serves the same purpose it did before. 

But it holds. It keeps you together. 

And you keep moving forward.


End file.
